The Willie Nelson mini mural at the corner of Ella and 34th streets, commissioned by real estate developer Chris Hotze, was created by w3r3on3.

www.houstonchronicle.com
by: Molly Glentzer

When Todd Romero and his two young sons ride through their East End neighborhood on the way to school or soccer practice, they make a game of picking their favorite mini-murals — the popular artworks painted on traffic control signal boxes across the city.

Romero, a University of Houston history professor, appreciates the lessons mini-murals can offer about significant characters from the area’s past, including Staff Sgt. Macario Garcia, the first Mexican immigrant to receive the U.S. Medal of Honor; and Mason Park founder John P. Mason.

Eight-year-old Alec and 5-year-old Elias, however, love anything colorful and fun. Their hands-on favorite mini-mural depicts the cartoon character Speedy Gonzales, who is the mascot of “Los Bomberos de Houston,” the firemen of Station 20 on Navigation.

Because that one has Spanish language on one side and English on the other, Romero concedes, “It does a nice job of encapsulating the neighborhood.”

As happens with any public art, however, the mini-murals also have detractors.

1. Do you Mind Too Much If I don’t Understand
2. How Long is Forever?
3. I’m a Worried Man” (featuring Toots Hibbert)4. The Harder They Come
5. Something to Think About
6. Sitting in Limbo
7. Darkness on the Face of the Earth
8. One in a Row
9. I’ve Just Destroyed the World I’m Living In
10. You Left Me a Long, Long Time Ago
11. I Guess I’ve Come to Live Here
12. Undo the Right

2013

In short: Paul McCartney played in 2013 and, in a backstage meeting with Mayor Ed Lee, agreed to play the final concert ever at Candlestick Park the next year. The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Nine Inch Nails and Jurassic 5 brought back ’90s vibes. Nile Rodgers showed up with Chic for a dance party.

Most Memorable Moment: Always doing things his way, Willie Nelson drove to the stage through the crowd in a white van, strapped on his beat-up guitar with a saxophone strap, threw his hat into the audience, and proceeded to play gorgeous song after gorgeous song to the most carefree, fun-loving crowd Outside Lands has seen. John Stamos from Full House stood to the side of the stage, making eyes and flirting with girls in the crowd before simply joining the band on congas. At the end, the Grateful Dead’s Bob Weir joined in for a finale of “Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die.” Never seen a set at Outside Lands quite like it.

A love story, city blues, and a little bit of weed—it’s a tried-and-true songwriting formula many have followed, but for Lukas Nelson it comes second nature. Still, Nelson manages to wrangle these tropes—made mainstream by his father—into something fresh on “Just Outside of Austin,” which premieres below.

The first moments of the song are an aural double-take. Nelson carries much of his father’s nasally affect—not to mention Aunt Bobbi’s intro on the keys—but as the song winds its way to the chorus, he opens up into a falsetto sweetness that sounds more Nilsson than Nelson. And though the themes and conversational tones of the song could have easily found their way onto Phases and Stages, the younger Nelson’s songwriting embraces its sentimentality more wholly.

The nimble, dancing fretwork, too, sounds familiar at first blush. But it’s clear when Willie lays down a brief solo toward the end of the song that Lukas has managed to carve out his own style—abandoning the blues-inspired licks for elevated country pop. It’s the kind of dreamy track that makes you want to grab someone’s hand, stare at a country sky, and, well, maybe add a few clouds of your own. His daddy must be proud.

It is only in the stories others tell about us, the legends they create, that we can achieve any sort of immortality. And even though the stories may not be completely true, it is better to keep them alive than to let them die. For when they die, we die with them. Such seems to be the theme of “Barbarosa” (1982), a sly, subtle film from director Fred Schepisi and screenwriter William D. Witliff, about two men on the run in the desert in Old Mexico. One is Karl Westover (Gary Busey), a young farm boy running from an old man who is determined to shoot him on sight in revenge for killing one of his sons. Karl insists it was an accident. The other is a legendary outlaw who has been at war for years with a Mexican family that gave him the name Barbarosa (Willie Nelson), which means Red Beard in Spanish.

No sooner do the two men meet than a Mexican with a gun charges Barbarosa. The grizzled, bearded outlaw stands calmly as a bullet marks his cheek and puts a hole in the brim of his sombrero. He coolly shoots and kills his assailant, a member of the Zuvalla family. Barbarosa explains he’s managed to survive by killing at least half a dozen male members of the Zuvalla family over the last 15 years. The two men—the farm boy and the outlaw—are in the same predicament, both hunted men. Barbarosa reluctantly decides to take the young, inexperienced fugitive under his wing and teach him the tricks of the outlaw trade.

The pairing of Busey with Willie is unusual casting to say the least, and watching them play off each other is quite a treat. The mercurial Busey, even then notorious for cutting up on the set, manages to keep himself in check long enough to make his farm boy turned outlaw believable, and Willy is just laid-back Willie, perfectly suited to play the laconic bandido.

One of the first things Barbarosa teaches him is how to kill a man with a gun. First, he says, point it like you’re pointing your finger. Second squeeze the trigger gently “like you’re holding your sore pecker.” Third: “Always stand still until you’re done shooting,” he explains. “Nothin’ scares a man more than for you to be standin’ still when you should be runnin’ like a spotted-assed ape.” Barbarosa is a font of such outlaw wisdom. When Carl tells him about his trouble back home, he says, “Well, the Mexicans got a saying – ‘What cannot be remedied must be endured.’”

Meanwhile back at the Zuvalla Rancho, Don Braulio Zuvalla (the great Gilbert Roland in his last film), after learning of the death of the man Barbarosa killed, selects another young member of the family to seek out and kill Barbarosa “Bring me his cojones,” he says. “Bring them to me on a stick.” Young Eduardo (Danny De La Paz) accepts the task, vowing not to return until he’s done as the don has asked.

Screenwriter Witliff, whose other work for the screen includes the “Lonesome Dove” TV series, “The Black Stallion,” and “Legends of the Fall,” slowly pays out Barbarosa’s backstory in small pieces as the action moves forward. It isn’t until midway through the film we hear the Don’s version of what happened between the two men. Barbarosa had been a Texas Ranger who saved the Don’s life and became a family friend but then married the don’s daughter without his consent. Barbarosa’s wife, Josephina, is played by Mexican actress Isela Vega, best known for playing Elita in Sam Peckinpah’s masterpiece “Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia” (1974). Karl and his outlaw partner sneak into the rancho to give Josephina some money. Karl overhears the Don telling the assembled children the story, and learns that Barbarosa had cold-bloodedly shot off the Don’s leg at the knee, and slashed the throats of two of his sons. The Don says the once honey-colored beard was now red with blood. “Barbarosa!” one of the children cries. The Don tells them Barbarosa is the devil himself and as long as they live they must hunt for Barbarosa and one day finally kill him.

When Don Braulio later discovers Barbarosa within his hacienda, the two men face each other. “Damn you for all the misery, you’ve caused,” Barbarosa mutters. “All I ever wanted to do is be a part of this family.” Don Braulio tells him: “And are you not part of this family?” The bitter feud, the endless killing, has bonded the Don and the outlaw together forever.

The second half of the film deals with Karl’s problems with the old man who is gunning for him. Karl returns home to find his father and sister alone and in bad health. There is a confrontation with his pursuer and later Barbarosa shows up and the two team up once again. But young Eduardo is still in pursuit and there is a final showdown with Barbarosa. I won’t reveal the ending, except to say that before the film is over we learn Barbarosa’s version of what happened with the Zuvalla family and we come to understand the violence that happened so many years ago. By the end of the film, Karl has grown from naïve farm boy to experienced outlaw in his own right. The events that transpire at the story’s conclusion give him no choice but to become part of the legend of Barbarosa himself.

Scorpion Releasing has done an excellent job presenting the film in its first-ever wide screen release in the U.S. The 1080 p transfer to Blu-Ray displays the movie in its original 2.35:1 theatrical aspect ratio. The picture is sharp and clear and does justice to director Schepisi’s fondness for long-distance shots of the Mexican landscape in which the characters sometimes appear as mere dots on the screen. The disc contains several bonus features, including interviews with Schepisi, and cast members Alma Martinez and Danny De La Paz. There is also a trailer and a separate audio track for listening to Bruce Smeaton’s music score. “Barbarosa” is highly recommended.